Friday the 13th:Jason Takes Bayville
by Fenrir's Daughter
Summary: Jason Voorhees rises from the grave once more, out for revenge against the surviving and new XMen. Sequel to Surviving Ironback. DISCONTINUED.
1. The Clairvoyant

A/N:OMG! OMG! OMFG! Mad thanx to Shimoariku for letting me upload this at her aunt's place! There's a state of emergency in the greater western New York area; we're not used to the snow coming so EARLY! If you read the first part of this story, **Friday the 13th:Surviving Ironback**, then you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, please read it or this won't make much sense because **THIS IS A SEQUEL**. SO, here goes, folks. And if you choose to flame me, don't be a little bitch about it. Have some balls and leave a verified review.

**_(THIS PART IS IMPORTANT!)_**Oh, and so you're not confused, let me set the plot straight. We're starting a couple of days before we left off and Jason is not awake yet. It's been almost a year since "the incident". I am also only going to count the total kills all the way up to Jason Goes to Hell:The Final Friday because Freddy vs. Jason was released two years after the episode the first story was based on was aired.

**Jason's body is fully intact because he has regenerative powers in my stories and therefore can never truly die.**

**Disclaimer**: "I don't know; I was really drunk at the time…"

**Friday the 13th:Jason Takes Bayville**

Rain poured down outside the Acolyte base as Remy, Piotr, St. John and Victor, better known as Sabertooth, sat around a card table having cocoa(except for Sabertooth, who likes vanilla coffee creamer). It had been a pretty quiet week; Magneto and Mastermind were off somewhere digging up a corpse or something…

Eleven months previous the bosses' son had been murdered while in a very compromising position, along with several others. Magneto was outwardly furious, but they knew how devastated he must have been. The rage festered for months until he finally snapped and demanded the chance to face his son's killer.

The Acolytes thought this would be quite impossible since Wolverine had killed him but Magneto clued them in to the identity of the killer.

"I don't care if Voorhees is dead! If I have to raise him from the grave and kill him again myself, Pietro _will_ be avenged."

And so here sat Gambit, Colossus, Pyro and Sabertooth, sipping cocoa and creamer as Remy dealt the cards and told the all too true legend of The Silent Stalker of Camp Blood. Being from, respectively, Russia and Australia, Piotr and St. John had never heard of Jason Voorhees. Victor knew exactly who he was, but despite his feral nature he always loved a good story.

"Dey say he cann' be killed by conventional weapon", the Ragin' Cajun started off. "He ben killed many time, but he still donn' die. Mebbe he a mutant; nobody really know."

He passed out more cards.

"Jason was a little boy who drown at Camp Crystal Lake in summer o '57, but his body was never found. Den in '58, two camp counselor was murdered. Dose wenn unsolved fo many a year and attempts to reopen da camp were met wit arson."

St. John leaned forward in his seat.

"In 1979, seven counselors were killed by Pamela Voorhees, Jason's mama. One femme survive by cuttin' off Pam head. Nex' year, Jason rise from his grave in da lake, fully grown and wit' da fury o God. Den he start killin' everyone who return to da camp as punishment fo killin his mama."

St. John and Piotr were absolutely transfixed by the tale. Surely no one could be so powerful- so feared?

"Rems, no offense mate; but choo gotta be pullin' moih leg. This guy- Jason or whatever 'is name is- Oim sorry but oih just don't believe you."

"Donn' innerrup, mon ami. Like Remy was sayin', his weapon o choice be da machete. If he got dat machete a his wit 'im, ain't no chance you livin'. But he also very skilled in killin' wit all sort o tings. Even non threatenin' objects like pool toys. Jason supposedly responsible fo at least 110 killins."

"Make that 120", Magneto said, entering the room with a grim expression. "The town of Crystal Lake changed its name to Forest Green in hopes of forgetting the tragedies of years previous, and Camp Blood was sold to an ex- Navy SEAL." He sneered. "It became a survival camp."

"Talk about bad taste." Piotr muttered.

Magneto continued. "Then, last October, nine students from Bayville High, including _my son_, were murdered along with the drill sergeant who managed the camp. It's been shut down again, but you know things like gates won't keep me out."

In through the doorway with a metallic hum floated a large body, carefully restrained by steel pipes bent around it. The arms and legs were held firmly in place at two places each. Mastermind looked around timidly, desperately hoping against all hopes that Magneto wasn't going to make him go through with it. In a last ditch effort to save his own skin, he resolved himself to the first message he would send the sleeping giant.

The other Acolytes stared uneasily in disbelief. Laid before them, sure enough, was a man about 6'3", 250 lbs. and wearing a hockey mask. His flannel shirt, pants and even his boots were stained with old blood and moist soil, and tucked in a sheath attached to one of his belt loops was a machete…

St. John shivered. "Boss, you can't be serious. What are you doing with a dead body? Have you gone mad?"

"Maybe I have, Pyro. Maybe I finally have. Go on, Mastermind; wake him up."

"Aw hell. Remy gettin outta herr!" The red eyed mutant made a break for the door, muttering to himself in French about the crazy people in his life.

In anticipation of a fight they were sure was coming, Colossus let out his metal armor, Sabertooth crouched with claws and fangs at the ready, and Pyro put his fingers on the triggers of his flamethrowers.

Giving them a last mental plea for help, Mastermind finally gave up and did as he was commanded, but with a slight alteration to the wake up call he was instructed to give. Rather than make him angry with the "Get up you miserable bastard. You've ruined enough peoples' lives" that Magneto had requested he broadcast the following:

"_My name's Jason, too. Jason Wyngarde. Let's be friends! Please don't kill me…"_

'How _rude_', his mother yawned angrily inside his head. 'Press the snooze button, would you darling?'

His eyes flew open as he sat up straight, pulling off his bindings with the creaking and screeching of straining metal, flinging it out with a tremendous force. It hit Mastermind in his ribcage, sinking in with a sickening sound as it severed arteries and ruptured vital organs. He was killed almost instantly, barely having time to scream.

Jason stood up and straightened his mask, looking around him. He didn't like what he saw. As they watched him tear free Jason's rotting wounds repaired and his skin turned a healthier color. He glared at those who had dared to wake him with an absolute malice that chilled even Sabertooth to the bone.

Knowing the alleged past of their captive, a single thought ran through the collective minds of the Acolytes and Magneto:

"_Oh, shit…"_

'Aw, look at them. Poor dears…', Mrs. Voorhees cooed in sympathy, and behind his habitual hockey mask, Jason smiled; for he knew an opportunity when he saw one.

A/N: BODY COUNT: ONE(1); #1 Jason Dennis Wyngarde, impaled. REST IN PIECES. Tell me, folks; should I just quit right now? Am I a credit to dementia? I think this is alright for now. Sorry again for the day-lateness, but Saturday the 14th is better than Monday the 16th! I promise it gets better…I hope…


	2. Who's Beowulf?

**Disclaimer:** These characters own me.

**Friday the 13th:Jason Takes Bayville**

Victor lunged at the living legend with a mighty roar, claws out, and tore into his chest, but he was thrown back into the wall. Magneto mentally cursed his decorating choices; these reinforced steel walls would be the death of them.

'My my; aren't we precious.'

Not being able to think of much else to do, Colossus rushed the behemoth on his own as Pyro circled around unnoticed. He grappled with Voorhees, hand to hand; back in Russia he'd been a boxer of sorts, but even with his mutant strength he was no match for Jason. In a move taken straight from Beowulf, the ever living killer ripped Piotr's arm from its socket, shoulder, armor and all as Pyro watched in horror.

"PETE!!"

The screams of the Russian echoed throughout the halls, silenced only when Jason began to beat him with his own arm…

This…this wasn't happening. It couldn't be real! Finally admitting defeat, Magneto floated silently out towards the back entrance.

Blood sprayed from Piotr's body and severed arm as Jason continued to pummel him.

Pyro was crying now; how could this possibly happen? Piotr…Oh, God, Piotr! Enraged at the loss of such a dear comrade, the awesome Aussie pulled the triggers on his flamethrowers, his tears turning to maniacal laughter. Jason flinched, covering his face.

"Whot's a matter, freakshow?!" he cried out. "Too hot for ya?!"

'Now that wasn't a very nice thing to say!' his mother said and Jason agreed.

Slowly, St. John's maniacal laughter died down and stopped as he realized that he wasn't hurting the behemoth in the least. His mouth twitched with the ghost of a nervous smile at the sight before him.

Lumbering towards him was Jason, in flames from the waist up. He pulled his machete from its sheath and, finally coming to his senses, St. John started backing away. Jason only had to make one quick slice; the blood sprayed from Pyro's body with such force that one would think it had been tossed in buckets, and the flames on Jason were put out.

St. John, in his final moments, uttered a single word:

"Croikey"

The pyromaniac's face from above the left eye, down to his right shoulder blade, slid off of his body as his remains fell to the floor.

'You've done well, Dear, but don't forget the other.'

His work obviously done here, Jason advanced on Sabertooth, stepping on the top half of St. John's lung as he went.

The feral mutant stirred, moaning as he took a defensive stance. The smell of blood overloaded his enhanced senses and he was taken aback; true, they had never been especially close but it was still a bit of a shock. This guy meant business.

As Jason's gaze fell on the taller blonde his mother's voice advised him. 'Be careful, honey; he's like that other fellow,' and he knew exactly who she was talking about. The little man with the big claws. Oh, yes; this was going to be one hell of a fight.

Sabertooth lunged at him again, roaring in anger as he clawed into Jason's chest once more. Jason pushed the feral mutant back, slashing at his neck and kicking him in his gut. Sabertooth roared again, this time in pain, and Jason silenced him for good with a final slash at his throat, effectively decapitating the feline feral mutant.

'Well,' his mother said, 'that was disappointing.'

Jason nodded in agreement, surveying the damage he had inflicted on the Acolyte base; the psychic, the tinman, the cowardly lion, the flamer…wait! What about the old man in the stupid helmet?

'Don't worry about it , honey,' his mother assured him; 'You'll get your chance. But first, we need to figure out where we are and how we can get home.'

He nodded; how lucky Jason was to have his Mommy.

As part of his mother's plan, Jason left the base, roaming through the forest towards any loud noises he heard. Eventually, she told him, this would lead them to a city, and from there they could figure out how to get back to camp. It was nearly midnight when they reached the edge of a suburb called Bayville, and there was one hell of a sight to see.

Outside of the local Dairy Queen were what seemed to be a couple of varsity football players, harrassing some girls that obviously wanted nothing to do with them.

'Oh, now that's not very nice; Sweetie, why don't you tell them to leave those nice girls alone?'

He nodded and moved out from the shelter of the forest, into the parking lot and towards the group. The teen boys looked at him as the girls scurried off. Scowling at the sight, the first pushed him.

"Jackass, what do you think you're doin'?" he said and shoved Jason again. "We were totally gonna score with those chicks!"

"Yeah!" the other agreed. "And what's with that mask anyways? Dontcha know Holloween ain't for a month yet?"

Jason grinned behind his mask, knowing what lay ahead. Inside, he could feel his mother glaring at the boys; she didn't like disrespectful kids.

'Make big swings, dear.'

A/N: BODY COUNT: FOUR(4): #2 Piotr Ilyich Rasputin, bludgeoned; #3 St. John Steven Allerdyce, dismembered; #4 Victor Marion Creed, decapitated. REST IN PIECES. Boy, do I love giving these characters embarrassing middle names… **DUDES**! I know, I'm sorry! This got deleted and I had to rewrite, so sorry fo the shortness. Also, if this story starts to get you down, I am currently collaborating on a humor fic in the Xiaolin Showdown fandom with my best friend Shimoariku. Feel free to check it out! There are little trivia challenges for those who dare to review.


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